


Living With Stan

by WandererofStars



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Grunkle Dating Sim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-20 05:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererofStars/pseuds/WandererofStars
Summary: A collection of short Stan/Reader fluffsThe Reader:-Has been living with the grunkles in the shack for at  least a year.-Is around 25-35 years old and currently not into a relationship.-Has little to some romantic/sexual experience.-Has an online job and a steady income. They're financially independent.If you've played the Grunkle Dating Sim or are fond of Stanley Pines as a character, you're sure to have a good read. Enjoy!





	1. Fresh Wound

**Fresh Wound**

 

You turned off your phone, not knowing how to react to the news your aunt just gave you.

You stood staring ahead of you absent-mindedly losing track of time until you heard a familiar pair of slippers in the corridor lazily drag their way toward the kitchen.

'Morning, [_______].' Stan greeted you.

You replied an unenthusiastic 'Morning'.

He noticed your disheartened response and threw you a curious glance, but didn't comment on it. He opened the fridge and grabbed the milk bottle, pouring some for himself.

Stan sat down on the kitchen table, sipping his milk while news played on a small TV he had bought for the kitchen. The reception signal was awful in the shack, so he punched the TV every now and then. It would be a comic sight if you hadn't heard the worst news that morning you ever did in your entire life.

You were peeling an apple to bake your special apple pies, which Stan, Ford and the twins had come to love when the knife slipped from your hand and you cut your thumb trying to avoid it from falling to the floor.

You murmured an 'Ouch', but it was enough to catch Stan's attention. He immediately got up from his seat and headed to where you were, picking the knife from the floor and placing it back on the counter. He noticed you wincing as you stared at your bleeding thumb and he gently took your hand in his large ones to check the cut.

'Mm. It's alright, [_________]. The knife didn't cut too deep.' he reassured you, proceeding to get some gauze and a bottle with saline solution to clean your cut.

Two minutes later he was back, applying the solution to your cut when you winced for no reason and tears formed in the corner of your eyes. He immediately stopped, looking at you with concern. Had he hurt you? That was the very thing he wished to avoid.

You tried to hold back the tears, but they wouldn't stop cascading from your eyes. Soon enough you were whimpering, crying and wheezing, falling apart before his very eyes.

'Whoa, whoa whoa. C'mere, kitten.' he urged in his hoarse voice, opening his arms.

Stan embraced you, placing a hand on the back of your head, arms and chest warm and inviting. You cried more openly now, not minding whether the kids or Ford would hear you. The pain inside your chest was unbearable and you needed to release the pressure. Luckily, Stan knew you well enough by now to comfort you like this.

You remained nested in his warm embrace for a full minute until your sobs had almost stopped and your crying was now more subdued. He caressed your head, shushing you softly, lips close to your ear, rocking your body slightly to the sides, like a father comforting his crying daughter. You were no longer a child and was fully aware that Stanley was a man – an old bachelor at that -, but still you knew his feelings and intentions were purely innocent.

Stan brought you to the table and you both sat down, his chair turned toward you as he looked at you with concern, hand over your trembling shoulder, like a stabilizing force.

'There, there. It's alright, kitten. Grunkle Stan is here. Now tell me: what happened?'

He let you talk while he worked on cleaning your fresh wound.

'My aunt just texted me this morning about my granddad.' you said between hiccups.

'What about him?' he asked, applying the solution to your thumb properly this time.

'He was heading to work this morning – he works as a college teacher in London – when he had a stroke in the middle of the street! There weren't many people passing by at that hour, so help only arrived several minutes later. When he arrived at the hospital, there was nothing the doctors could do.'

Stan wrapped the gauze over the cut working slowly, trying not to hurt you. You could see how careful he was, studying your reaction to see if you winced. It seems he was trying to avoid causing you any more pain than the one you were already suffering.

Once he was finished, he stared at you with his ever optimistic smile.

'There. Your wound is all clean and treated now.' he said in an atypical warm voice. Stan was always so gruff. And now, he was acting like the kindest man on earth. You had never seen him like that. Warm. Caring. Comforting. A true family man. You wondered if the news had shocked him as much as they did you. Losing a grandfather wasn't easy.

You smiled warmly back at him, eyes gleaming with unspoken gratitude. Something in your expression made his smile falter a bit and you saw he was swallowing hard.

'Uh...well, I'll go check if the kids are awake. You don't have to cook breakfast today, alright? Let me handle it.'

He got up, ready to begin working on making his pancakes when you slowly left your seat as well, silently heading toward him...

He felt a small pair of hands slid over his waist and a warm body come to rest against his hairy back, the fragrance of your perfume once more invading his nostrils.

He allowed you to hug him from behind, a satisfied groan escaping from his throat. You didn't let go so soon. You felt protected and loved in his presence. After a minute or so, Stan began drumming his fingers on the balcony, impatient. You felt his restlessness and giggled. Realising you were keeping him from his chores on purpose, he retorted:

'Are you done yet? I'm trying to cook here! I don't have all day, you know.' he said, pretending to be his usual grumpy self.

'No!' you replied, happiness swelling inside of you. You stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek and stubbornly hugged him from behind. Stan merely smiled to himself.


	2. Birthday Suprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eve of Dipper and Mabel's birthday, a terrible accident may prove to become one of the best birthday surprises the twins could receive...if only circumstances don't ruin everything for the Pines family.

It was already midnight. You could hear an owl hooting outside. The cool night breeze came through the kitchen window, blowing softly on the silk curtain.You left the cake in the fridge and had started to do the dishes when Stan came inside and told you not to worry about it. He would clean everything for you.

'Just go to bed. You've done a lot today.' he said, kissing your forehead.

'But...I barely do anything in the shack.' you said with a smile.

'You do more for me – uh, us! I mean, us! – You do more for us than you can possibly think.' he said, blushing.

You giggled and he scratched the back of his head, smirking awkwardly.

'I hope Dipper and Mabel will like the surprise.' you said, voice full of hope.

'Of course they will! _**You**_ made it! That is, if I don't eat the whole cake first!' he added.

You gave him a friendly slap in the arm and he laughed.

'Alright. Good night, Stan!' you said, getting closer and, to his surprise, giving him a tight hug. Stan had begun to notice how you had become more affectionate ever since he started helping you deal with your granddad's sudden passing. He appreciated small moments like these, where he could hold you in his arms. He needed the feeling of comfort as much as you did, even grown dependent on it, although you had no idea he felt this way. Even though you grew comfortable in each other's presence these past few months, he still hesitated to confess how you made him feel.

He was afraid you could misinterpret his feelings and would accidentally drive you away. Hadn't he ruined many good things in his life before without meaning to do so? His brother's trust, his own father's (precarious) trust in him, his own career, even his relationship with his niece and nephew was put to the test more than once. This was one good thing he vowed not to mess up this time.

'Goodnight, kitten. Sleep tight.' he wished you with another kiss on your forehead. He waited until you went upstairs and locked the door to your room, calling for Soos and Wendy to help him clean up that mess.

* * *

 

**Many hours later…**

You were almost in deep sleep when you thought you heard banging coming from downstairs. Someone had broken a glass or something. Then you heard a man shouting. Then someone hitting on the walls. Your sleep was now ruined and you woke up, wondering what in blazes was going on.

You climbed down the stairs and noticed the light in the kitchen was on. You saw a strong, burly man's shadow armed with what looked like some kind of long weapon as he shouted while he hit the floor and the walls. You turned on the corridor's light and cautiously entered the kitchen. The scene before your eyes made you think you were hallucinating.

Your cake was now lying on the floor, completely ruined, the glass tray now shattered, its pieces scattered everywhere, glistening against the soft light. Stan was standing a few meters from it, broom in hand, brandishing it like a weapon. And scattered behind table and chair legs, hidden beneath the cupboard and the fridge were tiny men whose comically roundish comic eyes peeked from their safe hideouts. You could see they had beards and pointy hats. Their tiny mouths were covered in cake, which they tried to wipe clean with their sleeves.

For a second everyone had stopped brawling and turned to look at the door. You stood frozen at the door frame, looking back, unable to speak at the bizarre sight.

'Oh. Hi, [_____]. Can you believe this? I come down to the kitchen to fetch some milk when I find a bunch of gnomes opening my fridge and devouring everything inside!' Stan said.

You looked back at the gnomes, still in shock. The gnomes peeked back at you, never daring to leave their hideout. They saw as you walked past Stan and toward the ruined mess that was your cake now.

Stan tried to warn you not to come close to the gnomes, warning they could turn into feral creatures, but you weren't listening. Stan stared hard at them, threatening them to not approach you. They recoiled, but otherwise seemed unfazed.

You knelt in front of the cake and stared long and hard at it...and then you couldn't hold back anymore.

Your sobs had called everyone's attention. The gnomes now stared at you, stunned to see a human cry in front of them for the first time. You covered your eyes, weeping like a small child that had been scolded for something they didn't do.

'This is so unfair. I worked so hard in this cake! What will I tell Dipper and Mabel now? The kids were so looking forward to this!'

'Dipper? Isn't that the annoying boy whose sister rejected you, Jeff?' one of the gnomes said.

'Shmebulock.' answered another gnome affirmatively.

'That cake was for them?' another gnome asked 'Is it their birthday or something?'

Stan's face moved from your lonely crying form to the gnomes. He seemed beyond himself with fury.

'Why, you damn creatures! See what you did? I'll squat every single one of you tiny bearded bastards for this!' he growled, brandishing the broom again.

A tiny squeaky masculine voice pleaded for him to stop. The gnomes gathered around you, using your weeping form to shield themselves from Stan's wrath. He continued to vociferate, ordering them to get away from you. But one of them, the youngest-looking of the bunch, held his hands and asked for him to wait.

He then turned to you and gently touched your arm.

'Uh...hi. My name's Jeff. Look, uh...I'm sorry we...we ate your cake. We didn't know it was for your...er, niece and nephew's birthday.' he said.

'She's not their aunt.' Stan corrected him sternly.

Jeff did his best not to flinch.

'Look, we can't fix this cake, but...we can bake another one for you.' he said with a smile.

You looked at him incredulously. Was that tiny man serious? Him, plus a bunch of gnomes, actually baking a cake?

'H-How?' you asked between sobs.

Jeff flashed another smile and clapped his hands. As per his command, the gnomes mounted on top of each other and built a human-sized gnome, complete with apron, cooking utensils in hand and even a chef's hat.

'Don't ask where that came from. Gnomes have secret magical abilities.' Jeff winked.

'Shmebulock.' another gnome confirmed.

You stared at the new cook and some of your sadness ebbed away. The gnomes did look kind of cute. Plus, their willingness to undo the mess they did made you feel relieved and grateful. Stan, however, still eyed them angrily, broom in hand.

'Well...if you're willing to help...' you said hesitantly.

'Of course we are! Just teach us the recipe and we'll get it done in no time!' Jeff hopped excitedly.

You flashed a smile and decided you would give the gnomes a chance. You checked the clock and startled at the time.

'We only have a few hours until the kids wake up, so we have to hurry!'

'Then let's get to work!' Jeff exclaimed, ready to follow your instructions. Stan sat on a chair, staring at them work with folded arms. He held on to his broom, just in case.

* * *

  **The next morning...**

The twins were awoken with a shower of confetti and a bedroom packed with many colorful balloons. An enormous Happy Birthday strip adorned the attic. Soos, Wendy, Stan, Ford and you had climbed to their bedroom to wish them a happy birthday. Mabel was all smiles, while Dipper pulled his blanket closer to his body, feeling shy in his pajamas.

Soon enough, everyone went to the living room where a huge birthday cake awaited them. Mabel's eyes gleamed as she admired how big and beautiful it was.

'Did you bake it? Just for us?' she squeaked, turning to you.

'Well, actually I had help.' you admitted.

As if on cue, the gnomes appeared from behind every furniture, shouting 'Happy Birthday!'. Dipper and Mabel screamed and shouted 'You???'.

'What are YOU doing here?' shouted Dipper.

'How dare you show up on our birthday? After you kidnapped me and tried to force me to become your queen?' Mabel complained.

'They did WHAT?' Ford exclaimed, not aware of the story.

The gnomes' smiles faltered as they saw the poor reaction to their presence. It was supposed to be a pleasant surprise. They turned to stare at you, looking crestfallen.

'Kids, please! They helped me in the kitchen!' you said, trying to salvage the situation.

'I bet they did something wrong which caused you to NEED their assistance in the first place!' Dipper accused, folding his arms.

You heard a gnome emit a tiny heartbroken Shmebulock in the background. You sighed and took a deep breath. The gnomes didn't look too happy with the accusation.

'Hey, I resent that, boy! We slaved away in that kitchen all night! All to celebrate your dumb birthday!' Jeff said, walking toward Dipper.

'Well, you'd better, cause wherever you show up, it means trouble for me and my sister!' the boy replied.

'Watch who's talking! It was YOUR uncle who made that yellow triangle demon come to Gravity Falls and threaten every life form!' Jeff retorted.

'Hey, I already admitted it had been MY fault Bill got into our dimension. There's no need to drag my nephew into this mess!' Ford exclaimed, rushing to defend Dipper. Soon enough, more voices were raising in the living room and everyone was shouting and pointing accusatory fingers.

The situation had spiralled out of control and what was supposed to be a birthday party became a hellish verbal brawl. The gnome that could only say Shmebulock had begun crying and needed to be comforted by another. Meanwhile, the others joined Jeff in accusing the humans of being ungrateful creatures. One of the gnomes dashed on all fours and bit Dipper's ankle, making him yell and trip over another gnome as he hopped around and shook his bitten leg, trying to shake the damn creature off. As it was, Dipper fell face flat on the cake, making the living room go dead silent.

The gnomes laughed mockingly, making Mabel go red in the face with fury. She grabbed a handful of cake and started throwing random pieces at the gnomes. They ran around, trying to flee the aerial attacks, and soon one of the pieces flew toward Stan.

Mabel and Dipper gasped as they saw she had accidentally hit her grunkle and the gnomes laughed in mockery again. One of them had climbed on top of the cake and hit Dipper in the face with a handful of cake as another gnome had touched his shoulder, asking him to turn around.

Stan was paralysed by shock and growled, wiping the cake from his face and glasses. 'Pumpkin, I love you, but you need to improve your aim. Seriously.' he said gruffly, voice barely hiding a threatening tone, sounding a lot like his deceased father, Filbrick.

The gnomes were now swarming everyone, biting ankles and scratching legs. The only person they didn't attack was you. Perhaps because you had worked with them all night long? Another gnome threw more cake at Mabel and she tried to hit him, hitting Soos instead. The giant of a man removed a chunk of cake from his face and emitted a loud 'Yum!'

'Guys, have you tried tasting this cake? Hm, this is so good!' he said, eating another chunk.

The gnomes stopped attacking and turned to look at Soos. All eyes were on him as he dashed toward what was left of the cake and dove straight at it. He then started eating it voraciously, gobbling down huge chunks. You couldn't help but smile.

You watched one of the gnomes climb atop the table and dive into the cake as well, eating a piece Soos threw in his mouth and munching, exclaiming a happy 'Shmebulock!' as he ate.

Both gnomes and humans stared at each other and began laughing. That was the funniest thing they had ever seen. A gnome that could only say Shmebulock and Soos eating cake, not a care in the world, happily munching away.

'Leave some for us!' Wendy said, dashing toward the table and grabbing a handful of cake, proceeding to shove it down her mouth.

'Ugh. Gross.' Stan muttered, also heading toward the table and having some cake. Ford complained Stan was grabbing cake with his hand when a handful of cake hit him squarely in the face.

' **IN YOUR FACE, SIXER!** ' Stan exclaimed with unholy satisfaction, laughing wildly, rubbing the cake all over his brother's face.

Ford couldn't believe how childish he was and peeked at him from behind stained glasses with an annoyed gaze...and then grabbed a bunch of cake and shoved it in Stan's face as well. The twins laughed like children at their silliness.

And so Dipper and Mabel celebrated their fourteenth birthday with lots of cake, two loving, but childish grunkles, partying gnomes, close friends and, most importantly...celebrating as one big wacky family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note  
> \- I've published the chapter's draft after a quick proofread. I'll read it again and improve on it later on.  
> \- The chapter happens after the events of Fresh Wound, but not all chapters will follow a chronological order. This one just happened to do so.  
> If you liked it, please consider sharing it with your friends and followers. That way, more GF fans can appreciate some Stan fluff. See ya!


End file.
